Monday, June 11, 2007

Always Get Fooled Again...

No matter what the song may advise, I'll always get fooled again - even when I see it coming.

I think I realized, maybe one or two seconds before my wife did, that "Nooo! THAT WAS IT! - that was the end!", but not quickly enough to stop her pinging other channels fore and aft to make sure it wasn't the feching Cable. And then, fit of utter disgust, she cut straight to The Tudors on Showtime, leaving me to complain that "Nono - we need the watch the credits to the end, case something happens."

The real surprise, it was she, not me, who had so wound herself up in anticipation all week, to the point that she couldn't wait those extra three hours to the West Coast viewing, that we ate our dinner and watched the East Coast feed. It shouldda been me that needed to jump the gun, but I'd only just finished explaining that Sopranos season endings had always disappointed in the past, and that this would be no different. Still: hope against hope, all that.

A disturbing end, in retrospect: he looks up from the table at the sound of the door, then BLAP! The Great Black Nuthin, like he'd been popped and never heard it coming. And hey, no matter what else I might feel about it, I have to admit that, for an instantaneous cut to black screen and total silence, it was hugely loud.

But in the end, be honest, go with my gut: it sucked ass.

Oh sure I can see a hundred different ways that it was a clever, even profound ending: but none of them wash, and most of them involve me being suckered, cheated, played for a fool. And that, too, is part of it: the Mob is a cheat - that's what they do.

Sucked ass, total rip-off.

That said, the Leotardo sequence, where his baby-laden SUV slowly rolled and popped his now-dead head, causing onlookers to vomit six feet - that scene took me back to the very first episode of the very first season, to the scene that hooked me to the show in the first place: where Christopher and somebody else were trying to throw a body in a dumpster, but it kept falling back out. It seemed, back then, to exemplify the notion of mobsters as ruthless-but-useless. Dumb as bricks, but murderous. Keystone Thugs.

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